


The Creation of Adam

by clawsnbeak



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Artist Ronan Lynch, Blow Jobs, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, Hand Jobs, Happy Ending, Introspection, M/M, Model Adam Parrish, Non-Graphic Smut, Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish Fluff, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:41:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25200313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clawsnbeak/pseuds/clawsnbeak
Summary: When Ronan Lynch enrolled in art school just to mess with his brother, he never thought he would actually be good at it. Now, with only a few months left before he is supposed to graduate, he has to turn in one of the biggest art pieces yet. Enter Adam Parrish, a poor student who wouldn’t say no to some extra money. When he saw an advertisement on Craigslist looking for a model to help with an art project, he didn’t hesitate to react. Working together seemed easy enough but there might be more between them than they bargained for.
Relationships: Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish
Comments: 21
Kudos: 316
Collections: TRC Big Bang 2020





	The Creation of Adam

**Author's Note:**

> I want to thank my beta [Kenzi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/glam_reaper2/pseuds/glam_reaper2) for being the best beta I could have wished for! I also want to thank [Rachel](https://purrsnicket.tumblr.com/), the artist that made the most beautiful art for this fic that I still can't entirely believe is for me.
> 
> I worked very hard on this fic and I'm very proud of it so I hope everybody who reads this will enjoy it as well!

Ronan Lynch was a dreamer

He thought of impossible things and made them happen anyways. Applying to a less than prestigious art school, for example, with a portfolio he had only assembled a few nights before the deadline just to spite Declan and getting in. Like attending classes without exactly knowing what he was doing, but succeeding despite his high school teachers telling him he never would. Like getting through the years and finally reaching his senior year, his grades better than they had ever been.

Ronan Lynch was a creator.

He made everything, from paintings and drawings to feet long masterpieces that were a bitch to carry around. He loved every single second of it; finally having a place to express the creativity he had stowed away when his father, a renowned artist, was brutally killed. His death was one of the many reasons Declan didn't want him to attend art school, which made it one of the many reasons Ronan did.

Ronan Lynch was a fighter.

They used to be with fists, he now resorted to words. Nosebleeds and sharp smirks turned to biting arguments and self-satisfied smiles. Ronan fought for the highest grade in his painting class by his words alone, arguing that a single white dot on a black canvas did mean something. He did it and he did it well, like almost everything in his life, art came easy to him.

Ronan Lynch was well, and truly fucked.

"I will do the dishes for a week," Ronan said, following Gansey to their shared apartment, not too far from either of their campuses. They had picked a place together, though it was mostly Gansey doing everything and Ronan trailing behind him, judging everything in sight while Noah was already planning to turn the living room in his personal parkour training space.

He was still considering it.

They had lived together during high school and weren't ready yet to part, the three becoming more like brothers than Declan had ever felt like to Ronan.

"You were already supposed to do the dishes, Ronan," Gansey said over his shoulder, letting out a self-suffering sigh after. "And I won't do it."

"Why not?" Ronan asked with a raised eyebrow. "I've already seen Mini-Dick before."

"That's because you barge into everything, including the bathroom when I'm showering!" Gansey's neck was turning a bright red, Ronan tried not to laugh at the memory.

"Have you asked Noah?"

"Noah is too scrawny," Ronan shrugged, pretending not to see Gansey's warning glance. "Besides, he wouldn't be able to sit still for that long."

Gansey couldn't help but nod in agreement. "How about the internet?"

"What about the internet?"

"Isn't there somewhere you can ask if someone is willing to model for you?"

"Why the fuck would a random somebody model for me?"

"Maybe if you paid them?"

It was a classic Gansey thing to say. It was a classic Gansey idea overall, thinking you could fix everything with money. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it earned him a punch in the face. Ronan respected either option.

This time, however, it might work. There were many poor students around who would maybe give up a bit of their time, as long as it paid well.

That night Ronan posted the advertisement online, the next morning he had a reply.

-

Adam Parrish was a magician.

He was used to juggling three jobs on top of endless homework and never complained. He couldn't answer how he had done this without completely losing his mind, he didn't know either. "Maybe I'm magic," he used to joke, waving off the sleepless nights, the exhaustion he carried in his bones. He just did everything he  _ had _ to do. That was what eventually got him into Harvard on a scholarship, even though it hadn't been his first choice. He accepted it anyways and vowed to himself he would work as hard as he had done before, because that was the only way to succeed for someone like him. Magic was something nice to hide behind, but he knew it was not meant for people like him.

Adam Parrish was a selfish creature.

He  _ wanted _ ; and he wasn't afraid to take. He went after what he craved and didn't consider the ones standing in his path, though it never made him unkind. He was determined to get a life that was better than the one planned out for him. It showed in his failed relationship to the enigmatic Blue, something that started out as sweet and innocent, much more innocent than people of their age usually behaved, but it ended with dismay. That didn't stop them from staying best friends, they were both headstrong like that.

Adam Parrish was a thinker.

Everything he did was carefully planned before he actually did it. He didn't have the privilege to take risks, it was one of the many things he couldn't afford. He had lived in poverty as long as he remembered. While he did get a scholarship courtesy of sleepless nights spent studying, he still wasn't particularly comfortable. So, everything was planned and budgeted. He was one of the few people who could, with certainty, say where he would be in 3 years. 

Well, that was until he decided to click  _ that _ Craigslist advert. He let Blue read the conditions - the amount of money he would get paid - and she told him to take a chance because there was, according to her, nothing that could go wrong.

Adam Parrish was already regretting this decision.

It's how he ended up at the student cafe in uptown Cambridge, keeping an eye out for somebody that looked like an art student. Unfortunately, for him, everybody dressed like them nowadays. He was uncomfortably stuck at a table he chose far away from people, looking out over the street next to him so he could at least prepare himself for who was coming to meet him. The person he had texted just told him he'd “know when he saw” him, and it started to feel like the beginning of a bad crime novel.

"Not too bad," he heard from right next to him. He turned in the direction of the sound and was met with pale blue eyes that reminded him of frostbite, and bad decisions. "I can work with that."

"You must be Ronan," Adam said, annoyance clear in his tone but the guy in front of him was seemingly unbothered. He didn't look like your typical art student, dressed completely in black, leather bracelets wrapped around his wrist. He looked more like a member of a shitty rock band, though there were some paint splatters on his Doc Martens that revealed the truth for those who had a watchful eye. "How did you know it was me?"

Ronan just grinned sharply and sat down across from him. He watched him unnervingly, as if he was already envisioning what his statue would look like. He didn't look as if he hated the sight. 

"When can you start?" he asked, his fingers rhythmically tapping the side of their table. He seemed to be someone who was always doing something with his hands. Adam was not too surprised.

"Depends," Adam said, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms in front of his chest in a poor imitation of Ronan's abrasive nature. "You haven't told me anything about this project yet."

Ronan hesitated slightly, and Adam quirked a single brow. He wasn't going to do something weird just for some money. He did have  _ some _ limits.

"It's a big project in which you can do anything you want. I chose sculpting. It's supposed to be in a certain style."

Adam grimaced. "Please don't say nude."

"Not entirely," Ronan said, but he flushed slightly which made Adam feel a bit better. "Just partially."

"What part?"

"Huh?"

"What part is nude?"

"All of it but it's covered too."

"That makes no sense," Adam said with a shake of his head, wringing his hands together nervously. "Don't you have an example or something?"

In the short time it took for Ronan to pull his phone out, Adam had already thought of multiple possible escape plans, one involving throwing coffee in Ronan's face and making a break for it. He stayed put though, horribly intrigued by the mystery that was Ronan's art project. He leaned closer when Ronan held up a photo.

"It's called drape style."

"It's called 'you're not paying me enough'," Adam shot back, eyeing the photo with slight disdain. It was a beautiful style, he couldn't exactly deny that, but the wet fabric that seemed to be wrapped around the sculpted bodies didn't leave much to the imagination, and Adam was  _ not _ going to bare himself if it didn't at least cover the books he had to buy for the upcoming semester.

Ronan's mouth pulled down but Adam didn't relent. "Fine," he eventually said with a sigh. "How about $50 an hour instead of the $30 I offered at first?"

"You don't have that kind of money," Adam said but his tone was hesitant. Ronan seemed like a no nonsense kind of guy, all angry eyebrows and sneering lips.

"Of course I do," Ronan laughed, at Adam more than  _ with _ Adam. "My family is rich. It's not for nothing that I could just ‘go to art school.’"

They stared at each other for a few seconds.

Ronan was smug, leaning back into his chair like he knew Adam couldn't resist the sum of money waiting for him.

Adam was hesitant, but slowly giving in to the temptation of comfort lying on the other end. He wasn't going to give in to Ronan that easily though, so he leaned back and waited until the silence had gotten tense, Ronan's shoulder dropping with insecurity.

"Deal," Adam said and held out his hands for Ronan to shake. His skin was soft against his own, despite how much Adam imagined Ronan must work with his hands as an art student.

"Deal," Ronan said with a sharp grin and curled his hand around Adam's, giving it a firm shake before standing up and walking away, his coffee forgotten on the table.

-

"Do you practise that in the mirror?" Noah asked the second Ronan walked in, a finger pointed at his face. "Can you teach me?"

"It's just my face, loser," Ronan shot back but wiped the satisfied smirk off his face. He ignored Noah's indignant sputtering and walked to the kitchen with big, self-assured strides, ignoring 

Gansey who was frowning at him, already knowing what he was about to do.

"Ronan, we all drink from that. You can't just-"

Ronan had already opened the orange juice box and chugged from it, smiling cheerfully at an affronted Gansey.

"You're a menace."

"A happy one," Noah added, his eyebrows scrunched up which made him look more like a confused puppy than what he thought was supposed to be a suspicious glare.

Ronan shrugged. "I'm always happy."

Gansey and Noah looked at each other for a second before bursting out in laughter. Ronan couldn't help but join in a little.

"Fine," he said with a sigh, hoisting himself on the kitchen counter. "He's perfect."

"Ronan has a cru-hush," Noah sang, neatly avoiding an apple thrown at his head.

"For the piece, dickhead," Ronan said with a glare, slapping himself in the face when Noah didn't stop, his loud, awful, singing voice following him to his room. As much as he liked to tease Ronan, he knew about the consequences from being thrown around one too many times.

Gansey laid a comforting hand on Ronan's shoulder, the touch familiar and brotherly. "He's just happy for you," Gansey said and it didn't sound like his politician's voice for once. It was soft and friendly. "So am I. We know how hard you've worked to get where you are now."

Ronan was never sure what to do with comments like these. He was not the best with emotions, even though he was in a better place than he had been years ago when he solved his problems with cracked knuckles and bloody noses. Now, he gave Gansey a small smile of appreciation and hopped off the counter, stalking to his room to start sketching out the statue-to-be, losing himself in the sharp lines of the boy's face.

Small steps forward.

-

"And?"

Adam jumped back, his back pressed against the door connecting his dorm to the main area. 

"Fucking hell," he swore under his breath, rubbing his now painful back. "Don't do that!"

Blue grinned from his bed, pieces of fabric strewn across it. She had a pair of scissors in her hand which made her look even more menacing.

"I waited for you," she said, pointing her scissors at him. "So, come on, tell me the details."

"You couldn't have waited for a text?" Adam asked with a shake of his head, carefully pushing away some of the fabric so he could sit down semi-comfortably without Blue coming for his neck with those scissors.

"Nope," she said, popping the ‘p’ loudly. Not for the first time Adam wondered why Blue remained one of his favourite people in the world.

"He was a dick," Adam said simply.

"He's an  _ art student _ ," Blue shot back with a raised eyebrow, practised in front of the mirror to perfection. "What did you expect?"

Adam shrugged. He wasn't sure what he had expected but it wasn't a tall, tattooed guy with a smirk that was too self-satisfied and confident for his liking. It wasn't blazing blue eyes that scrutinised him top to bottom, like he was already sketching him in his mind.

It was intense.

Adam wasn't sure if he liked it.

Blue put down her newest project then, taking his hand in her small one. "You don't have to do this if you don't want to," she said softly.

Adam refrained himself from pulling back.

"I could help-"

"No," he said immediately, his voice angrier than he meant to. He sighed. "I'm sorry."

"I know," Blue said patiently.

She went back to stitching together whatever it was that she was making and Adam watched, calming down in the comfort of her presence.

"I'm sorry," he repeated, softly this time, apologies now coming easier than they had years ago when the slightest mention of money made him feel sick and act out because of it.

"I know," Blue said again, smiling affectionately. She wrapped him up in a hug and leaned against his shoulder as she worked.

Adam wasn't perfect, he never would be.

But he was growing.

-

"Are you going to undress or what?"

Adam scowled at him, his arms protectively crossed in front of his chest. "You really are a prick."

"And we are on borrowed time," Ronan pointed out, squeezing the bridge of his nose in annoyance.

The usually empty art studio in the back corner of the college building was one of Ronan's favourite places to come and work on his art. It looked a little messy, with the paint splatters staining the floor, the dirty palettes that had never been cleaned stacked in the corner. There was art everywhere you looked, hung on the walls, left on the easels absentmindedly. The windows were open, letting fresh air blow the see-through curtains in restless figures. Light streamed in, hitting the skin of the boy in front of him, his freckles even more on display in the soft illumination of the sun.

Adam really was  _ perfect _ for this statue. With an unusual face that grew more beautiful the longer you looked, high cheekbones and soft, thin lips now pulled down in a scowl. The lean muscles of his body were coiled tightly, as if the carried stress under his skin was now a part of him.

Ronan wanted to discover more, see what was underneath the clothes he so stubbornly kept on. He wanted to uncover him and replicate him on the slab of marble in front of him; capture his almost ethereal beauty in the soft curves of the drapes that would cling to his hard lines.

If only he would just  _ fucking take his clothes off. _

"You could at least turn away," Adam said, making a spinning motion with his finger.

Ronan sighed, "As if I'm not going to see everything anyways." But he did turn away, not so patiently waiting until Adam allowed him to turn back.

"You did the draping wrong," he pointed out, stepping closer to Adam who rolled his eyes.

"You do it then."

Ronan took the cloth and moved it away from Adam's arm so it was laid bare, draping it over Adam's shoulder gently, tweaking at it until he graced his skin like Ronan wanted it to fall once it was wet. He took the other end then, wrapping it across and down around Adam’s waist. 

He brushed Adam's chest briefly on his way down, nearly dropping the cloth at the sudden shock of warm skin against his hand. He hadn't noticed how close they were standing until he looked up, Adam's face inches away from his own, his hand still on Adam's waist, dangerously close to the bare skin of Adam's hip.

He flickered his eyes across Adam's face in rapid speed, his deep-set eyes almost sparkling in the light, the soft slope of his nose, the now amused pull of Adam's mouth. He almost reached out to feel along Adam's cheekbone and followed it down to his jaw but he stepped away, the moment broken by his sudden movement.

"And now the water," he said, his voice coming out a little hoarse. Adam nodded with contempt, looking around for the source of water they were supposed to use, his eyes landing on the bucket Ronan had filled before he had arrived.

"You're kiddin’ me?" Adam said, a little lilt of a hidden accent peeking out at his surprise. "You're  _ not _ going to pour a bucket of water over my head."

"Do you have a better idea?"

Adam squeezed his eyes shut then. "Do it quickly."

Ronan couldn't help but let out a silent laugh as he grabbed the bucket and stood on his tip toes and poured the water on Adam's head in one sweep.

Adam made a little sound of surprise, shaking his slightly curly hair out like a wet dog. "Happy now?"

Ronan let his eyes roam down Adam's body, purely for the art project of course, and nodded. 

"Very," he said with a grin, the smile growing wider when Adam flushed slightly, the colour moving down his chest.

He was pushed away suddenly. "You're not paying me to look at me."

Ronan held up his hands in fake-surrender and instructed him how to stand, keeping his pose both elegant but powerful too.

He got to work then, carving tools in hand and the feeling of new opportunity in front of him.

-

_ He's beautiful when he works. _

Adam had been standing for a while now, watching as Ronan started to make something from the block of marble in front of him, the material looking almost untouchable until Ronan focused on it. 

It was already starting to take shape a little.

Ronan looked different like this, completely focused on his art. The frown lines disappeared from his forehead, his mouth relaxed, almost smiling as he worked.

Adam had long since forgotten he was practically naked and Ronan could see  _ all _ of him. It didn't feel distasteful when Ronan let his eyes glide up the curves of Adam's legs. It felt natural and comfortable.

His eyes were almost glittering with excitement, the muscles in his arm bulging a little as he carefully carved out another piece. Adam couldn't stop staring.

Like this, Ronan's stance was unthreatening and more open than Adam had seen that one time they had met. He was beautiful; timeless. Adam could stare at him forever, locked in the vulnerability both of them had brought into the studio. Adam, quite literally, fully bare; Ronan with his soul on display for Adam to see appear in the soft strokes of the hard marble.

He could have stared at him forever but his body was protesting. He couldn't remember how long he had been standing like this, stuck in a pose that was impossible to hold for too long. His muscles were aching, his arm dragging a little with the heaviness of the tired bones underneath.

"We can take a break," Ronan said, not unkindly. Adam wanted to swallow down his tiredness and tell Ronan to continue, if it was only to see the openness in his eyes again, the cold-blue shimmering with joy that was now reduced with the breakage of the moment.

Adam nodded instead. With a sigh of relief when he sat down next to Ronan, he was finally able to see his side of the marble. It was even more spectacular than what he had seen from where he had been standing.

"It's life-like."

"That's the point, Parrish," Ronan laughed then, softly stroking the drapes forming in front of them near where Adam thought his hips would eventually be. He almost felt like he should give Ronan a private moment with the beginning of the statue, and promptly reprimanded himself for thinking that.

"You're talented," Adam told him, dragging his gaze from Ronan's finger to his eyes, seeing the surprise in them. "That's all I wanted to say."

"That's what got me in, didn't it?" Ronan ears were flushed slightly, his embarrassment at the compliment hiding behind sneering words. Adam could already prick through the defense-mechanisms Ronan had set up a little.

"I thought you got in because you're filthy rich."

Ronan shook his head with a laugh. Adam quickly found himself liking the sound, liking that he could make someone as stoic and dangerous looking as Ronan laugh with his stupid comments.

"That too."

"I'm ready again," Adam said, standing up quickly, finding it easier to bare his body than the hint of growing fondness in his eyes.

Ronan nodded and took his place again, looking up to Adam only briefly before getting back to work.

Adam decidedly tried  _ not _ to look at Ronan's face, but he was drawn in every time, his brimming energy pulling him right back.

He closed his eyes then and let the time pass him by, closing himself off for anything that could end up potentially ruining him.

-

They met again and again, the statue coming closer to a finish with every stroke Ronan etched into it. Their meetings went the same every time, at the same location, in the same stance. The only thing that grew and changed was Ronan’s confidence and Adam’s ease with the nudity.

Adam had asked if Ronan wanted to get a coffee with him after they were done during their third meeting and Ronan had declined. He had said something about having to put in some finishing touches to the statue, his eyes focused on the marble in front of him.

Adam never asked again after that.

“Keep your arm a little higher,” Ronan said, making Adam flinch out of his thoughts. He dutifully raised his arm again, watching as Ronan perfected a vein in the arm of the statue, eerily alike his own. He often wondered during their meetings how someone could possess the ability to create incredible things when all he had known in his life was how to destroy them. He supposed that was the reason Ronan had declined the coffee, he had seen the ruins in his eyes, every destroyed part Adam desperately tried to hide, laid bare and rejected because that is what people did. 

It was still undeniable Ronan was attracted to him at least. Adam didn’t mind, he relished in the soft touches as Ronan fixed up the purposefully misplaced drape around his shoulder, enjoyed the appreciative glances Ronan shot his way when he thought Adam couldn’t see them. He returned them, leaning in closer when he looked at the curves of his body Ronan had carved in marble, studying every line and groove of Ronan’s face when he was working, his forehead wrinkled in concentration. 

“That’s it for today.”    
  


Adam sighed in relief and stretched his arms out, his muscles slightly aching as always. He rolled his neck back, letting out a small groan when it popped. He felt Ronan’s eyes on him but they were focused on the papers in front of him, full of notes and quick sketches when he glanced over. 

Adam took the towel hanging on the back of Ronan’s chair, heated by Ronan’s body warmth, and wrapped it around his waist after he had taken the wet fabric off. “It’s coming together,” he said, a soft praise, something he could get away with.

Ronan nodded in agreement. He glanced up at Adam for a second, his eyes lingering on the scar that stretched from his ribs down to his hips. Adam turned away quickly.

“How many sessions do you need to finish?”

Ronan looked at the statue in front of them thoughtfully. There were still some rough edges, some details Ronan had missed but it already looked like it belonged in a museum, appraised by every visitor that laid their eyes upon it. 

Adam would have believed it if someone had told him Ronan was a god. No other creature could have the capability to create like this.

“Two or three,” he said eventually and Adam nodded. He could feel bitterness tug at his heart, the loss of these intimate sessions already tangible. 

Adam had tried to stop it, the growing fondness he felt. He tried to hold on to that asshole he met, with his sharp smirks and cold, angry eyes. But then he got to know Ronan, little snippets of his hidden personality coming out with everything he told Adam about himself. About the two brothers he had, the one he loved deeply, unconditionally, the other he couldn’t help but love despite every fiber in his body pushing against it. About the mother he had learned this from, her endless patience even when he got it wrong, the soft sound of her voice as she taught him another technique. The death of his father that kick-started his descent into unhealthy coping mechanisms and anger, broken beer bottles and bloodied fists.

In turn, Adam had told him about himself. Why he couldn’t hear out of his left ear anymore, why there were thin, white lines stretched across his body. Why he had run from home and worked his way up until he could leave the dust and despair behind; how he still felt it inside of him. Ronan had listened and nodded at every right moment. He had asked for more stories, something to listen to when he was working, and Adam had given it up freely, feeling lighter after every session.

Maybe this was a healing process for the both of them. A way for Ronan to put himself into his art, his soul laid bare for everyone to see when the piece was finished but kept for Adam’s eyes only for now. A way for Adam to show his body, elegant and lean but also ugly and broken without him having to feel the shame for it he normally felt.

-

“Adam’s hands are really pretty,” Noah mused, flipping through the pages of Ronan’s sketchbook. He had seated himself on Ronan’s bed like it was his own, his dirty sneakers ruining Ronan’s sheets.

Ronan took a few strides forward and snatched the sketchbook out of his hands. “Have you ever heard of the word ‘privacy’?” He held the sketchbook protectively against his chest.

“I was curious,” Noah said with a shrug and a dopey smile, one Ronan couldn’t stay mad at because it resembled a puppy too much and Ronan did like animals. “So… Adam’s hands?”

“Why would you think they’re his?” Ronan asked, raising one eyebrow in a perfect arch, just like he had practised in the mirror when he was fifteen and reinventing himself.

“It says A. P. in the corner,” Noah pointed out. “Who else could it be?”

“More people have those initials.”

“Name one other person with the initials A. P.”

“Alfred Pieterson.”

Noah gave him a look of utter disbelief, either at Ronan’s stupidity or the fact that he could actually come up with a random name. Noah stayed quiet and so did Ronan. The silence stretched on until Ronan couldn’t handle it anymore. 

“Fine, they’re Adam’s, I need it for the statue,” Ronan finally confessed, letting himself fall on the bed besides Noah.

“He’s in front of you all the time,” Noah pointed out, searching Ronan’s face like he might discover his secrets there.

“Well, I needed it to imagine what the statue would look like,” Ronan replied. It wasn’t a lie but it wasn’t the truth either. He had mastered the tightrope walk between the two.

“It’s very detailed.”

“It’s nothing, just a sketch,” Ronan said as if he hadn’t spent hours working on Adam’s hands, shading them to perfection. It almost felt as if he could reach into the page and touch them.

Noah let out a disbelieving laugh. “Why don’t you just ask him out?”

“Why would I?” Ronan asked with a shrug. “He’s only letting me do this because I’m giving him money for it. This is purely professional, nothing more.”

“Well, if his hands are already that pretty, I can imagine what the rest of him looks like,” Noah said, copying Ronan raised eyebrow from earlier and failing miserably. Ronan still mentally gave him cookie-points for the attempt.

“No, you can’t,” Ronan said quietly. Noah truly couldn’t, nobody would be able to imagine Adam’s beauty that only seemed to grow more evident the longer Ronan looked at him.

“Oh my god,” Noah said, a tad too loud which made Ronan wince in fear of Gansey hearing and barging in like an overprotective father. “You actually like him for more than just,” he made a motion in the direction of his sketchbook. 

Ronan flushed and cursed his almost translucently pale skin for showing his feelings this easily. It was not for nothing he had built an impenetrable wall around himself and now he was betrayed by his own body.

“You have to ask him out,” Noah said excitedly which didn’t say much because he said everything excitedly.

“I think he already asked me out.” 

Ronan thought back to the way Adam had awkwardly hovered around him, much unlike the seemingly self-assured person he was most of the time. How he had asked Ronan after taking an almost unnoticeable deep breath. The moment his face fell when Ronan declined with an excuse that sounded stupid even to his own ears.

“Did you mess up the date?” Noah asked, patting around the bed, looking for something. “You can still call him and fix it! It’s not too late.”

“I didn’t say yes.”

Noah stopped, his hands stilling at an odd angle on the bed before he leaned back, got a pillow clenched between his fists and threw it at Ronan so hard he nearly fell off the bed. Ronan quickly picked it up and stood over Noah, holding the pillow above his head to throw it. “No, you can’t do it back,” Noah said quickly, covering his head. “You deserved that and you know it.”

Ronan paused and rolled his eyes but he knew Noah was right so he dropped the pillow again.

“Why didn’t you accept?” Noah asked, now all soft voices and big eyes. If Ronan didn’t know better he would think Noah took pity on him but he did know him and it was plain curiosity with a hint of compassion. Noah was endlessly kind. He reminded Ronan of Matthew.

“What would you have done if someone who looks like he’s handcrafted by God himself stands in front of you, naked may I add, and asks you out?”

“I wouldn’t have said anything,” Noah said with a shrug. “I would have just jumped him.”

“You’re not helping,” Ronan sighed, letting himself fall back on the bed, his hands pressed against his eyes as if that could erase Adam from his mind completely.

“I’m sorry. Look, take a chance in life, it’s over before you know it,” Noah said, not for the first time surprising Ronan with his wisdom. If reincarnation exists, then Noah must have been through a hell of a lot in his past life.

“What if he rejects me because I rejected him? Or what if he just wants sex? You know I don’t-“

“I know and if that happens, which is not likely,” Noah said with a friendly smile. “I’ll goad Gansey into buying us the biggest pizza we can find and we can watch those Fast and Furious movies you like so much.”

“We can afford the pizza ourselves,” Ronan said, giving Noah a rare but earnest smile.

“I know,” Noah said seriously with a scheming face Gansey could only dream of. “But if I pull it off well, Gansey will buy me those buffalo wings because he feels bad. And you know how much I like buffalo wings.”

Ronan lets out a laugh this time, throwing his head back for good measure.

“Okay, deal.”

Noah looked at him expectantly, holding out his arms. Ronan didn’t move until Noah started to frantically motion to him, urging him to come forward.

Ronan rolled his eyes but sat up. He wasn’t big on physical contact but figured he could manage this time. “You have five seconds.”

Noah hugged him with enthusiasm. Ronan let his arms hang next to his sides, silently counting down. 

“You’re going to be alright. I’m rooting for you,” Noah whispered to him and wrapped his arms around Ronan a little tighter.

Ronan hugged him back on the third count.

-

“Good news,” Ronan called the moment Adam stepped into the art studio, pointing to a chair very close to the chair he usually sat in when working on the sculpture. “You don’t have to get wet today.”

Adam frowned but took his place dutifully, swirling around a little on the rolling chair before Ronan stopped him with his foot. “I thought there were still a few sessions left?”

“Wanna focus on your face today,” Ronan replied and pulled him a little closer until one of Adam’s knees was nearly positioned between Ronan’s own legs, the fabric of their jeans’ rubbing together softly. “It’s not an unimportant part of the piece you know and this way I can see every detail.”

Adam swallowed hard and nodded. He had a solid face, he supposed. All freckles and elegant lines, his nose sloping almost daintily and his eyes deep-set and tired but sparkling with interest for whatever new there was to discover. His cheekbones stood out the most, the angles harsher than any other bones that made up the structure of his face but they fit in well, a reminder that Adam was not what he appeared to be, that there was danger lurking beneath his skin that he didn’t even know of himself.

Despite Ronan having seen everything of him already, even the most private parts of his body, this felt more intimate than any of the sessions before.

It was Adam finally getting to see Ronan work up close, concentrated and keen on making something that would portray his talent and skill most accurately. It was how Ronan looked at him, how his eyes trailed up and down Adam’s face before honing in on one particular spot; his eyebrow, the small scar that grazed his cheekbone, the pull of his lips and turning back after that long moment to etch it into the marble. It was having those observant eyes on him and feeling something warm coil low in his stomach while also battling the urge to glance away; find something safer to look at than Ronan’s eyes.

Ronan told him to tilt his head, Adam didn’t comply. It was that he  _ couldn’t _ comply more than anything else, too lost in the way Ronan’s hand carved into the marble so gently Adam could almost feel it on his own skin. The shocking warm touch of said fingers on his chin brought him back and he let Ronan guide his head to the side, his eyes now focused on the small podium where he stood all of those times, posing for Ronan. 

He could hear the faint scraping of the marble and his hands clenched into fists, desperately searching for something to say so the silence wasn’t as deafening as it was now. So he didn’t have to think about Ronan’s hands on his skin, feeling the callouses as he caressed him in ways he shouldn’t be thinking about right now. He had asked Ronan out and that was it, there was nothing more he could do but accept the rejection and let it go. But that was hard when Ronan softly gripped his chin again to make him turn back to him, his face suddenly much closer than it had been seconds before.

“I just need to get this right,” Ronan said quietly and touched his cheekbone, his skin but a mere whisper against Adam’s. It still made him suck in a breath of air.

“I can’t imagine how hard it must be to make marble look realistic,” Adam said just to say something, his voice coming out much lower than he meant for it to come out. 

Ronan shrugged but shot him a sheepish smile over his shoulder. “Everything is hard without the training, I guess.”

“But not everything is easy  _ with  _ the proper training either,” Adam countered with a smile of his own. “Don’t sell yourself short, you have talent.”

It was Ronan’s unguarded smile that came next that threw Adam off completely. The usual sharp lines of Ronan’s face turned soft, more touchable than they had been before. When Adam had first met him he thought he would cut himself on Ronan if he ever came too close but it felt easy now to reach out a hand and trail it across his jaw slowly in an act of weakness and lack of self-preservation. Ronan took his hand in his own, Adam thought he was going to push him away but he rolled him closer instead, pressing his now gently curved lips to the back of his hand and kissing it softly.

“You said no to that date,” Adam whispered, afraid to break the moment and risk never seeing Ronan like this again. “I thought-“

“I was an idiot,” Ronan admitted and turned his hand over, this time kissing Adam’s palm, lingering there for a few seconds before looking up with a grin that made him look younger, more care-free; a vision of what Ronan would have looked like all the time if the world hadn’t broken him before. “I would personally like to call it ‘an act of gay panic’.”

“Why?” Adam asked, watching as Ronan trailed his kisses up to his wrist, nosing the prominent vein there. 

Ronan glanced up at him then, his eyes nervous yet hopeful. Adam couldn’t look away if he tried.

“Because, you’re beautiful.”

It took mere seconds before Adam was in Ronan’s lap, kissing him like both of their lives depended on this fragile moment between them. Adam had fistfuls of Ronan’s shirt between his hands, a sign of desperation, of fear, of hope blooming in his chest at the chance that this could be something more.

“I don’t do casual,” Ronan said, the moment they broke apart, his chest heaving slightly from the force of the kisses shared between them. “I need you to know that beforehand.”

Adam smiled at how  _ Ronan _ it sounded. Of course, he didn’t do casual, he didn’t do anything halfway. He put care into the tiniest sketches on recycled paper that already bore the paint-splatters of someone else, he touched the marble statue that wore Adam’s face so delicately it threatened to tear Adam apart.

“I told you things not many people know,” Adam said, letting his thumb graze over Ronan’s cheekbone as he cupped his face, the bones underneath his thumb almost breakable in its vulnerability. “This has never been casual to me.”

Ronan graced him with another one of his rare smiles before two hands gripped Adam’s thighs and he was lifted into the air, the laugh he let out reverberating in the large space.

Adam was laid down on a somewhat empty table, Ronan’s mouth immediately following his, the warmth of his lips a pleasant shock against the cold of the wood underneath him. Adam slipped his hands underneath Ronan’s shirt, feeling up his naked back and scratching down his skin again just to watch the goosebumps rise on his arms. 

Ronan, in turn, followed the trail of freckles across the bridge of his nose with the whisper of a finger tip as if he was relearning Adam’s face, his eyes wide and soft with wonder. Adam wasn’t prepared for this, the tenderness that came with being intimate with Ronan in this way but his touches were almost worshipful and Adam couldn’t stop him, didn’t want to stop him, not when he finally felt the way Ronan saw him. 

Getting undressed was harder this time. Ronan had seen him naked more than enough to not feel embarrassed about laying himself bare in front of him but now it felt different, more intimate. Adam felt vulnerable and resisted the urge to cover himself back up, even with the mostly naked statue of himself in his peripheral. 

“Don’t get shy with me now, Adam,” Ronan whispered and mapped the skin of his neck with his tongue, moving down to press a kiss to his collarbone, following the scar of a broken bottle with his lips. His name sounded different in Ronan’s mouth, more purposeful, cherished almost. Adam didn’t quite know what to do with this information but let the warmth he felt at the realisation wash over him instead.

Adam moved until he could lean back on his arms, looking down at Ronan as he touched his chest with his fingers first as if he was committing the contours of his muscles to memory so he could draw them out in perfect detail later. Adam would have let him touch him like this for eternity, the silence of the art studio blanketing them in safely, only disrupted by their heavy breathing and soft moans neither of them were able to hold in. 

Ronan glanced up with his mouth dangerously close to his nipple, his hands splayed out over his too prominent ribs and Adam nearly fled from the emotion splayed in this one single glance but he felt tethered to this table, unable to move away from this moment even if he tried. He had wanted this too much for too long, and it was time to let himself have it. 

Adam smiled encouragingly and the smirk Ronan shot back melted his insides into liquid. He couldn’t bear to look at Ronan anymore and see the emotions in his eyes he knew were reflected in his own. He laid back down instead and tried not to move around too much as Ronan pressed open-mouthed kisses to his skin. He focused instead on the winds softly blowing into the studio, the familiar dancing curtains, the smell of paint he had grown to associate with their most intimate conversations that took place during the carving of the marble. 

Nobody had admired him like he was a piece of art before Ronan came along. He who tried to commit every line of his body to memory, to try to find the hidden meanings in the scars that interrupted his smooth, freckled skin. He was trying to learn his secrets in what his body could tell him and Adam let him, trusting him to carefully handle the information he gathered. 

“What do you want?” Ronan whispered into the skin of his hip, his teeth briefly grazing the bone before an apologetic kiss was pressed there too.

“You,” came the answer. The single syllable was drawn out a bit as Ronan moved to his thigh, propping it up so he could kiss the inside, following a vein upwards. “Whatever you’re willing to give me.”

“I’m willing to give you everything,” Ronan laughed, an admission that carried more than just this moment in itself. “But not here, not now.”

Adam swallowed hard. “I told you whatever and I meant it.” Another admission that contained hidden meanings only they could decipher. Ronan waved it away immediately.  _ Not casual _ , Adam reminded himself again. Ronan wanted more and so did he, even if it terrified him more than anything.

“Everything,” Ronan promised him, his hand paused on his thigh for long enough to force Adam to meet his eyes, the certainty it held taking his breath away. “When we have more time.” And then Ronan’s mouth was around him.

The sound Adam let out echoed off the walls but he didn’t have the time to feel embarrassed about it. Ronan’s mouth was hot and wet, and Adam’s hands clenched in fists so he found some sense of purchase against Ronan’s ministrations. Ronan calloused hands scraped against his legs and Adam opened them wider, drawing Ronan in more.

Adam, vulnerable and open underneath Ronan, should have felt scared, or nervous at least. He wasn’t one to show himself so willingly, not his body per se. Ronan had seen enough of that, but  _ him,  _ the way he felt, how affected he was by what Ronan did to him. But Ronan was patient and almost  _ loving  _ and he made encouraging sounds in the back of his throat that riled Adam up even more.

It was as if time stopped just to give them this moment to last forever, to take in every sigh, every sound ripped from their throats, every touch so they could recreate them again in private. But then it went too fast, the burning in Adam’s lower stomach intensifying despite Adam’s valiant attempts to fight against it.

He tried to focus on something else so this would last longer but the glide of Ronan’s mouth was persistent and Adam couldn’t help but give in to the searingly hot pleasure that finally spilled over.

Desperate hands pulled Ronan up and then they were kissing again, the taste of himself exploding in Adam’s mouth, Ronan grinning at the sound he made because of it.

“What do you want?” Adam asked, his hand moving down Ronan’s back, a sharp contrast against the lines of the dark ink that adorned his skin. He reminded himself he had to ask Ronan to see it in full one day. He wanted to see how the ink hooked around his shoulder blades, what laid at the centre of his back and follow the lines down with his mouth, committing every stroke to memory.

Ronan had to close his eyes, wanting to feel Adam’s hand without the distraction of his sight intruding. “Your hand,” he said and his voice was gravelly, from what he had just done but also from how much he enjoyed it, how badly he wanted to do it again and again for as long as Adam would let him.

Adam was quick to unbutton his jeans and Ronan tried to help him by moving his hips but he was quickly stilled by a gentle hand on his hip bone, Adam’s thumb rubbing a small circle into his skin. 

“Let me,” Adam said and despite the pure  _ want  _ thrumming underneath his skin, Ronan leaned back a little and let Adam take over with a sense of patience he didn’t know he possessed. 

Adam’s nimble fingers made fast work of sliding the pieces of fabric down his legs, freeing him, and taking him into his hand, the other one placed over his heart, the quickened beat of it thumping against his palm. Ronan could do nothing but hang back, watch those hands hold and caress him, move over him slowly at first and then quicker. Those same hands he had drawn until he could dream them into perfection, with the same boyish knuckles and slender fingers, the same freckles Ronan itched to count and recreate galaxies on his smooth skin.

Ronan wished he could make this last forever, capture this moment of pure pleasure like he had done with Adam’s statue, forever etching the quirk of his lips and the slight bend of his nose into the marble to immortalise him. 

“Does this mean you will give me a second chance and go on a date with me?” Ronan breathed out between soft sounds, his lips just barely touching the skin of Adam’s neck where he had rested his head when it became impossible to keep himself upright. 

He could feel Adam’s laugh reverberate against his mouth and he couldn’t help but quietly laugh along. “Dinner this time and you’re paying.”

“Deal,” Ronan managed to get out before his hips moved on their own accord, defenceless against Adam’s skilled hand and there was no more room for talking anymore, only silent screams and eyes squeezed shut, lost in the ecstasy Adam brought upon him.

“Deal,” Adam repeated and Ronan took it for what it really was; a promise that went beyond just one date, beyond two. They had found each other in an unlikely way and were unwilling to let go now. 

After all, Ronan didn’t do casual.

-

“You had sex,” Blue said the moment Adam stepped into his dorm. She was back on his bed, this time with a yoghurt in hand and her laptop propped up so she could watch it while almost fully lying down. Adam wanted to comment on the choking hazard but decided against it, especially with the smug grin that was now splayed on Blue’s lips.

“How?” Adam only asked, dropping his bag by the door and flopping down next to Blue, taking her hand and bringing a spoonful of yoghurt to his own mouth before Blue could fully comprehend what was happening. He got a pillow in the face as his punishment.

“Daughter of a psychic, remember?” Blue said, poking his blushing cheek. “And you have that post-sex glow around you. You’re all happy and shit, it’s kinda off-putting.”

Adam bashfully shrugged and leaned his head on Blue’s shoulder, silently thanking her for being so supportive and not asking for details he wasn’t sure he ever wanted to give out. What happened between him and Ronan had been too intimate, too private to ever share with another soul. That moment had just been for them and Adam wanted it to stay that way, pure and safe in his memories.

“With Ronan the sculptor?” Blue only asked before turning her attention back to some character on the screen, judging them for their poor life decisions. 

“With Ronan the sculptor,” Adam nodded and then he was smiling, not his usual polite smiles when he wanted to get something out of someone and not his tired smiles either when he tried to convey to his friends that he was okay, that he wasn’t too tired and worn down but always failing. No, this one was open and free, filled with hope and excitement of what the future would bring to him, something he hadn’t exactly placed in his three-year future plan but didn’t feel the need to write down as he trusted that everything would fall right into place without his immediate control.

-

“You’re grinning,” Noah said the moment Ronan stepped into Monmouth Manufacturing, Gansey thankfully too busy to notice something was up. Ronan’s noise-cancelling headphones were on his ears without having asked for them first. Ronan couldn’t find it in himself to care.

“Why are you grinning?” Noah asked, quieter this time as he pulled on Ronan’s arm, leading them to the kitchen where he jumped on the counter, his legs swinging back and forth.

“You do the math,” was Ronan’s only response before he jumped up next to Noah, swinging his own legs in time with Noah’s. The pure bafflement on Noah’s face was priceless and he laughed loudly, only adding to Noah’s confusion.

Noah frowned for a second before his expression cleared, shaking Ronan’s arm hard with excitement. “You took my advice!”

“Yep.”

“So you asked him on a date?” Noah asked, his face splitting into a big grin. “That’s amazing! I’m so-“

“Nope.”

“What?” Noah asked, going through a rollercoaster of emotions before settling on frustration. Ronan had to try hard not to laugh in his face. “What do you mean, ‘nope’? This was your only chance Ronan and you fucked up!”

“I didn’t. I jumped him.”

“You…” Noah’s eyes grew wide. “You  _ jumped _ him?”

Ronan was openly grinning now, his eyes shining with pride. “I jumped him.”

“Fucking finally,” Noah sighed and brought his hand over to high-five Ronan, the action so much like Matthew Ronan was set back for a split second before returning it, happy one of his best friends supported him in this decision. “Wait… Can we still manipulate Gansey into buying us pizza, I’m happy for you and all but I’m also kinda hungry.”

Ronan shook his head with a laugh but relented. 

They would tell Gansey later, over pizza and the buffalo wings Noah wasn’t going to share with either of them. Gansey, of course, had a million questions Ronan was never going to answer but it didn’t matter because Ronan felt lighter and happier than he had since he could remember. He smiled so much his cheeks were cramping up and when he finally slid into bed that night, the encouraging words of his friends still ringing in his ears, he fell asleep with Adam on his mind and hope blossoming in his heart.

-

Adam found Ronan easily in the crowd. The tattoo he knew as no other, due to his intense studying of it during lazy nights in, the only illuminations being the string of fairy lights Ronan had above his bed, peeking out above his suit jacket. Adam headed his way with self-assured steps even though the atmosphere of a full art gallery, brimming with nervous energy and awed gasps was new to him. 

“You made it,” Ronan said when Adam put his hand on his arm, slipping it down so he could hold Ronan’s hand. His fingers tangled easily with Ronan’s as if they had been doing this their entire lives. 

“Of course I made it,” Adam replied with a smile and walked with Ronan through the gallery, admiring the works of his classmates. In a way, he felt a little out of place. He was more of the academic excellence types, good with reading but bad with creating anything that wasn’t words on paper that turned into well-written essays for him to hand in. Here, everything was obviously created by very talented people who were passionate in their craftsmanship. Adam could’ve stayed and looked at every piece for minutes at a time, trying to find the meaning in the swirls of colours and hard edges of wooden structures. 

They didn’t have time for that, though. Ronan was about to show him the finished product and he was too eager to see the statue of himself in full, polished and carved to create a perfect replica of himself to wait. Ronan had forced him to close his eyes during the last session even though Adam had seen most of it already but Adam had humoured him and Ronan had made it up to him later so there had been no reason to complain.

Ronan led him further down the room and placed his hands in front of Adam’s eyes when they were getting close, causing Adam to stumble just a little but he trusted Ronan to not let him fall. Ronan’s warm hands were familiar now, always touching him in some way, whether it be on the small of his back as he passed him buy in the dorm’s kitchen while making breakfast together and reaching for the flour, or gripping his hand tightly in his own as they rushed down the street to catch the movie they were late for because they were too busy making out in Ronan’s car. Ronan ordered him to keep his eyes closed and those same hands were now on his shoulders, pushing him forward gently to take the last few steps before Ronan leaned forward, his breath brushing Adam’s hearing ear. 

“You can open your eyes now.”

Adam’s eyes blinked open immediately and after he had fought off the harsh lighting, he looked himself right in the eyes. Adam thought the statue had been life-like before but this was something else entirely. It showed that it had been crafted by someone who truly cared for the person carved into the marble, every curve of his body exactly like he saw in the mirror, every edge carefully etched to perfection. Adam saw things he didn’t see in himself too. The etherealness of the way the statue was posed, the draping of the cloth hanging over him like he was made to wear it, clinging to every line of his body that was worthy of accentuating. 

“Does the open-mouthed gaping means you like it?” Ronan asked, humour in his voice. He stroked a finger down Adam’s cheek, soft but solid, knowing Adam didn’t like touches that made him feel like he was breakable.

“I love it,” Adam said and couldn’t find it within himself to feel embarrassed about the slight hitch in his breath, the tone pitch his voice took on from emotion. “It’s… It’s perfect. God, you’re talented.”

And maybe that’s what Ronan was. A god who could carve the most wonderful things out of just a slate of marble, who could put his pen to paper and create things nobody has ever seen before with just his hand and his imagination alone. Ronan was a thing of wonders and it was in that moment that Adam knew he was dealing with more than simple attraction or infatuation. He wanted to uncover every single one of Ronan’s secrets, his dreams, his desires, and keep them close to protect them. He wanted to help him grow and flourish and see what other wonderful things he could create. 

“I passed by the way,” Ronan said again, letting his hand slide down from Adam’s shoulder to his chest, his palm right over Adam’s heart. “I don’t know the exact grade yet but… yeah.”

Adam turned around in Ronan’s arms and even though he was not the biggest fan of PDA, he kissed Ronan right there and then, pulling him as close as a social gathering would allow him to. “I’m proud of you,” he whispered against Ronan’s lips and tasted his smile in return when Ronan kissed him again.

They hadn’t discussed what would happen after Ronan graduated. They had only been together for a couple of weeks and it wasn’t quite enough to talk about them in the future yet but Ronan was still here with Adam and that was enough for now.

“They’re waiting for us,” Ronan said, his arms circling around Adam’s waist in a manner that told Adam it was purely for comfort. Just so he could hold him against his own body without looking for anything else from Adam. 

Adam nodded. “I know,” he said and couldn’t help but let a smile slip past his usual stoic expression. Smiling was much easier now with Ronan looking at him like he could give him the world. 

They all had become fast friends after they went through their initial awkward meeting. Adam had taken a liking to both of Ronan’s best friends and after spending maybe a little _too_ _much_ time together the past few weeks, he considered them his own best friends too. Ronan and Blue had hit it off immediately which wasn’t that much of a surprise to Adam since they were almost the exact same person but he was still happy they enjoyed each other’s presence so much. 

“We could ditch them,” Adam said but they both knew he wasn’t seriously considering it. “Spend our time a little differently.” His hands found their way to Ronan’s arms, rubbing the muscles there through the layers of his three piece suit. 

Ronan laughed, his head thrown back which showed off his sharp jaw, the pale expanse of his throat, his Adam’s apple bobbing a little. Adam didn’t know how he was lucky enough to have this with Ronan but now that he did, he wasn’t going to let him go for the world.

“We have time later,” Ronan reminded him and untangled himself from Adam, holding out his hand with a grin. “Come on.”

Though Adam knew that they had time later, he also realised he would never have enough time with someone like Ronan, even if he had gotten eternity to spend with him. And despite this, despite the limited time they may have, the obstacles they were sure to encounter and have to overcome, the woes of the world that might eventually lead them on different paths, Adam took Ronan’s hand easily and followed him without hesitation.

**Author's Note:**

> You can also find me on [Tumblr](pynches.tumblr.com)


End file.
